


That's how it's gonna be.

by Bunnywest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Dirty Talk, He's into it, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, One Night Stands, Peter's in charge and don't you forget it, Power Play, Rimming, Spanking, Top Peter Hale, Under-negotiated Kink, but Stiles doesn't mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Peter has an itch to scratch. He needs a willing body.Stiles is willing to help him with that.





	That's how it's gonna be.

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt - 26 November - "Smut."
> 
> I've added a dub con tag because it struck someone as such, but I'd like to point out that right out of the starting blocks, Stiles is 100% down with the idea of Peter taking advantage of him and using him.... and Peter's equally behind that idea.  
> If this is something you're not comfy with, please hit the back button.

 

Peter doesn’t really know why he bothered to come out tonight.

But it’s close to the full moon and he has an itch to scratch, and the thought of finding an anonymous body to fuck, to _use_ , had been too good to resist. And now he’s here, in this shithole of a nightclub, and everyone’s either part of a couple, or reeking of desperation, and there’s nothing here that takes his fancy. It’s not that he couldn’t charm any one of the people here into his bed easily, it’s just that none of them seem worth the effort right now. He knows he’ll end up going home alone again, and the thought causes him to sigh aloud.

The barman hears him, and wordlessly slides him another shot with his eyebrow raised in query. Peter nods his thanks, and takes the drink from the young man. He looks again at the long, clever fingers wrapped around the glass, and rethinks his earlier statement. Maybe there’s something here that takes his fancy, after all. “Peter” he offers over the loud music, smiling his most charming smile at the barman.

“Stiles” The man responds with a nod, and Peter’s eyes range over his body shamelessly. Long, lithe, with a hint of hidden muscle. Scruffy hair that begs to have fingers tangled in it, pulling that head wherever Peter wants it to go.Soft, pink lips made to wrap around Peter’s cock, to _choke_ on it. Pale skin with a scattering of moles, and a neck that Peter needs to lick a stripe up as soon as humanly possible. Perfectly delightful hands, with long elegant fingers that would look so good clutching at the sheets desperately as Peter takes his pleasure and the young man whines and cries beneath him.

He must have been staring longer than he thought, because suddenly those elegant fingers are snapping in front of his face , and the young man is saying “Hey buddy, you OK?” Peter snaps his gaze back to Stiles’ face, and finds an amused grin there. “See something you like?’ he asks with a wink.

“Yes. You’re exactly what I need. When do you finish work?” Peter says before his brain has a chance to catch up with his mouth.

“Ten minutes ago actually. I was just hoping to pick up someone to entertain myself with for the evening” Stiles discloses casually. His eyes flick up to meet Peter’s and there’s a definite offer there.

Peter’s so very tempted, but before he commits either way, he wants to make a few things clear. He doesn’t want to take the boy home only to have him start shying away because he doesn’t want what Peter’s offering. “I’m a Were, sweet boy.  You know that right?’

Stiles licks his lips, and his smile grows wider. “I was guessing, from the wolfsbane drinks” he replies, and of course, Peter’s not thinking straight. Something about the boy has his mind on other things.

One other thing, anyway.

“Tell me Stiles, exactly how were you hoping to entertain yourself? My tastes are very…specific, and I’d like to make sure we’re on the same page.”

"Well, let’s see” Stiles muses as he leans in closer from his side of the bar, and Peter can feel the young man’s breath hot against his collar. “I’m taking home a Werewolf. So I know you’re going to be stronger than me, and I can’t possibly get away if you decide you want to hold me down.” He runs a finger thoughtfully over Peter’s jawline before he continues “I’m guessing you’ll want to be in charge, which, fuck yes.”

Peter hums in response, and he waits.

“And really, I’m hoping you want to take me home, fuck me hard, use me and wreck me” he whispers into Peter’s ear, before licking it. Peter shivers at the sensation, and Stiles gives him a look of anticipation. “Is that how it’s gonna be, Peter?”

“That’s how it’s gonna be, sweet boy. I’ll meet you outside and you can follow me home” he says, and there’s a thread of dominance in his tone that has Stiles nodding and scrambling to get out from behind the bar in record time.

Peter drives to his place, keeping an eye on the old blue jeep behind him to make Sure stiles doesn’t get lost. He’s half hard just at the thought of having the young man under him, and he rubs one hand absently over the bulge in his pants as he drives. It’s not far, and when they arrive he escorts Stiles into the foyer of the condo.

Stiles whistles, and when Peter pushes the button for the penthouse he snorts, and says “Of course.” Peter raises an eyebrow at him, and Stiles explains “I mean, look at you, in that suit, and with that Rolex. Of course you rent the penthouse.”

“Actually, I own the building” Peter corrects him, sounding a little smug about it.

“Nice” Stiles nods approvingly. There’s a glint of mischief in his eye when he asks “Does that mean that you won’t get kicked out if we make too much noise?”

“You can make as much noise as you want, sweetheart. In fact, I’m counting on it,” Peter tells him, and then in one stride he’s pressing Stiles up against the wall of the elevator, kissing him hot and hard and dirty. Stiles moans and squirms as Peter holds him in place and ravages his mouth, and Peter feels himself starting to harden all the way, and why wouldn’t he? The young man he’s kissing is incredibly attractive, Peter doubts he has any idea exactly how attractive, and he’s not fighting back at all, just taking what Peter gives him.

Peter threads a hand through Stiles’ hair and yanks his head back, exposing his throat. Stiles whines, high and needy, and Peter licks that stripe up his neck like he’s been dying to do. The noise of surprise Stiles makes is covered by the soft ding of the elevator as it reaches the top floor, and as soon as the door open Peter uses the hand still tangled in his hair to drag Stiles towards his apartment, not slowing even as the young man struggles to keep up.

When they reach the front door, Peter turns to Stiles and gives his hair a sharp tug. “This is how it’s going to be. You’ll be mine, and I’ll use you how I please, and you’ll take it. Last chance to change your mind, because once we go through that door, there’s no turning back.”

Stiles’ breath hitches as he looks at Peter with wide eyes. “Safeword?” he asks hesitantly.

Peter smiles hungrily at him then, a sharp thing, a promise and a threat all at once. “Good boy for asking. I’ll respect your red, don’t worry about that. But that’s it. Any begging, I’ll ignore. So tell me Stiles, yes or no?”

Peter can hear Stiles’ heart racing as he whispers “Yes, Peter.”

Peter opens the door and shoves him roughly inside, growling “You’re mine, now.”

Stiles stumbles as he enters the room, barely keeping his feet. There’s the sound of the door locking, loud in the silence. “I’d hate anyone to disturb us” Peter smirks, and he grabs Stiles round his waist, spins him so they’re facing, and tugs him close, letting the young man feel the hard ridge of his erection through his suit pants. Stiles presses against him, and doesn’t pull away when Peter starts kissing him again, instead responding beautifully, moaning  and chasing Peter’s mouth with his own.

They do nothing but kiss and grind for a few minutes; as Peter revels in the scent of desperation and arousal coming from the young barman. Soon enough though, he’s ready for more. "Strip, and let me see you“ he commands,  and Stiles’ hands fumble a little as he pulls off his shirt, losing a button in his haste to drag the fabric from his body. His hands are shaking as he tries to undo the button on his sinfully tight skinny jeans, and Peter huffs impatiently and bats his hands away, undoing the button and zip swiftly and peeling the jeans off. He drags Stiles’ boxers down in one smooth move, and runs a hand appreciatively over the thick cock he finds there.

Stiles is almost completely hard, and Peter pumps his hand up and down once, twice, feeling the flesh move and change beneath his hand as Stiles firms up even more under his expert touch. “Well, this is an unexpected bonus,” he murmurs, testing the weight of Stiles’ cock in his hand. "Nice. Big. Shame you won’t be touching it tonight.”

Stiles makes a sound in the back of his throat that might be the start of a protest, but Peter stares at him steadily, and he goes silent.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll make you come, but tonight, you don’t touch. This? This is mine.” And to prove his point, he drops his hand down and cradles Stiles’ balls before squeezing firmly, just once and letting go.

Stiles yelps and tries to pull away, but Peter grabs his arm in an iron grip, and hisses “Did I tell you to go anywhere? No? No. You don’t move unless I tell you to move, understand?”

Stiles nods dumbly, and Peter smirks, satisfied. The young man’s going to suit his needs wonderfully. “On your knees,“ he barks out, and Stiles drops down instantly, looking hesitantly at Peter as he does so. Peter looks down at the figure on his knees in front of him, and knows he’s expecting Peter to pull out his cock and demand a blow job, but really, Peter just wants to see him like this, ready and waiting for whatever he’s going to do to him.

And Peter’s planning to do a lot.

He strips out of his suit efficiently, revealing his sizable erection, and then walks around Stiles slowly, prowling, running a hand through his hair, tugging his head from side to side, bending down to capture his lips in a kiss once or twice. When he’s looked his fill at the long pale limbs, Peter tugs on his hair and commands “Up you get, sweetheart.”

Stiles stumbles to his feet, and Peter steadies him as he does so. "And now,we play,” he declares, as he picks Stiles up and throws him onto the bed with no warning. The young man lets out a soft _oof_ as he lands, and Peter quickly scrambles onto the bed after him, pinning him in place with his body. “I hope you’re ready for this, Stiles,” he warns.

Stiles’ eyes are bright with anticipation as he replies, “So ready, you don’t even know.”

Peter grabs his hands and pins them over his head, and holds him down as he bites hard on his collarbone, making the boy squeal in surprise. He keeps his mouth on the spot, sucking and teasing and worrying at it until there’s a massive black bruise there. It looks so good he does the same on the other side, and all Stiles can do is squirm under the assault, and take it. “I like to mark what’s mine, Stiles. And tonight, you’re mine,” Peter explains with a smirk, before moving up to the sensitive flesh of Stiles’ throat and nipping sharply.

Stiles bucks and twists to get away from the unexpected pain, but Peter holds him in place as he repeats the action, only stopping when Stiles has a ring of bruising around his throat. “You bruise up so prettily. I wonder where else I can mark you?” he ponders out loud.

Stiles lays beneath him, panting.

Peter considers for a moment before flipping him over, and commanding “Knees under, elbows down. Show me that pretty ass of yours, sweet boy.” Stiles hurries to obey, and Peter looks on with undisguised lust as the boy’s back stretches out in a long line of mouthwatering flesh. The sound of his palm smacking against the flesh of Stiles’ ass rings out, and Stiles flinches and swears.

‘Fuck! Warn a guy!” he spits out.

“Fine. Be warned, Stiles, I’m about to mark your ass as mine,” Peter tells him, half expecting Stiles to protest.

But Stiles doesn't protest - quite the opposite. He grins, and says,"Spank me, and make me cry."

Peter's always loved a challenge. He draws back, and then he rains down a volley of hits, not stopping until Stiles ass is glowing red and he’s almost crying.

Almost.

Peter doesn’t think almost is good enough, so he slaps him one more time, and this time he doesn’t hold back. The unexpected shock of the hit has Stiles wailing loudly, as tears stream down his face. “Please, please stop, no more!’’ he begs, sobbing loudly.

Peter smiles, satisfied. “ _Now_ your ass looks like it belongs to me,” he purrs.

Stiles' sobs peter off slowly. “We're done?”

Peter can be kind, so he confirms “We're done. With the spanking, anyway.” Truth be told, it’s not even the spanking that Peter loves, it’s the visible signs of his claim on the young body. His wolf is extremely satisfied at the sight of Stiles with his bruised up throat and his red ass, so he has no need to hurt the boy further. He does want him to enjoy himself as well. With that in mind, he snakes a hand under his body, taking Stiles’ cock in hand and starting to stroke it lightly. It’s softened under the pain of the assault on his backside, but Peter softly touches and strokes and pets at it until it starts to recover.

He sets a slow pace, can feel Stiles pressing forward into his hand as he hardens further, and he’s stopped crying and is making little moans and gasps of pleasure. Peter closes his eyes and just enjoys the sounds for a while, because they really are delightful. He can feel Stiles starting to leak a little precome, so he swipes his hand across the head to gather it and use it as lube, spreading it down Stiles’ shaft as he picks up his pace.

Stiles is moaning steadily, soft and low, and his hips are rocking forwards when Peter pulls his hand away. Stiles whimpers and goes to reach for himself, but Peter slaps his hand, reminding him “Not yours.”

“But I’m close," Stiles protests, hips still moving.

"Good. You’ll be ready to come when I fuck you,” Peter tells him firmly, and bends down and drags his tongue across his hole. Stiles sucks in a breath sharply at the sensation, and Peter pulls his cheeks apart so he has better access. He starts to lick and lick and lick, feeling the muscles start to unfurl beneath his tongue as the boy starts to relax and enjoy himself. He’s making those sweet little panting sounds again, and Peter decides he’s played around long enough, and it’s time to get some real noises out of Stiles.

“Going to get you ready now, sweet boy. Going to stretch you so wide you’ll never be the same again, and then I’m going to use you the way a little cockslut like you deserves to be used,” Peter taunts him, and he’s interested to see that Stiles’ cock twitches in response.

Oh, he likes that.

“Such a slutty little boy, going home with the first attractive man to show an interest. Look at you, on your hands and knees, willing to do anything I say, my needy little bitch.”

Stiles moans loudly, and replies "Slutty for you.”

When Peter looks at him, the young man’s cheeks are pink, and his breathing’s fast, and he’s very clearly turned on by the whole thing. “Well, let’s see if we can’t loosen this hole up enough to do what it’s meant to do,” Peter hums, and he grabs the lube from the bed side table, slicks up two fingers, and jams them straight in with no warning.

Stiles gasps, and his whole body tenses, but Peter keeps a hand firmly on his hip and works his fingers in and out of the incredible tightness ruthlessly. Stiles is whimpering, begging Peter to slow down a little, but Peter tells him sharply “Stop that whining. You asked me to wreck you, and this is how I choose to do it.”

His fingers are moving a little more easily now, so he adds another. “It burns, Peter, it’s too much” Stiles pleads, as his body tries to pull away instinctively.

‘You think this is too much? Wait till I fuck you," Peter chuckles in the filthiest of tones.

He works three fingers in and out, faster and harder, relentless, until they’re pistoning in and out, and Stiles is making a soft _unh unh unh_ noise every time Peter drives back in, the sounds punched out of him. Peter starts twisting his fingers around, and he knows when he’s found Stiles’ prostate because the boy releases a high pitched squeal, before gasping out “There, do that again!””

Peter does, hitting the spot again and again, until he can tell that Stiles is desperate. “Shall I stretch this slutty hole out more, or are you so desperate you want me to fuck you like this, when you’re still tight and barely ready?” he asks, not really expecting an answer.

“Now, please, I’m so close“ Stiles whines.

Peter forces the three fingers in as far as he can go, pausing for a moment just to enjoy the feel of the silky flesh squeezing around him. “I wonder, can you take my cock yet? You know, I don’t think you can. Let’s add another finger, just to be sure,” he says, and adds his pinky.

It’s tight, so tight, and Stiles can’t help but tense up. Peter slaps his ass lightly, saying “Now, now. Let me in.”

Peter forces his hand forwards, and Stiles’ body is helpless against the inexorable pressure as slowly, slowly Peter buries his hand up to the knuckles.

Stiles pants through the sensation of being stretched so wide, but Peter can see that he’s still hard, still leaking, so he knows it’s not too much, not really. He twists his hand, pulls it back and then forces it forwards a few more times, enjoying the sight of Stiles’ stretched out rim as it goes white with the stretch, looking for all the world like it’s about to just give way and split around him.

He pulls his hand out and he can see Stiles gaping, open and ready. He can see his insides, all pink and twitching, and suddenly he needs to be inside the boy _right now._ “On your back,” he barks out, dragging Stiles over even as he speaks, too impatient to wait for him to process the command.

He forces Stiles knees up against his chest, and with a groan he sinks in as far as he can. Stiles can’t take him all, at first. He gives a sharp cry, of pain or pleasure Peter doesn’t know.

Frankly, he doesn’t care either. This, this is what he wanted tonight, a young body beneath him, pliant and obedient, taking everything without complaint, someone to use without having to hold back. He starts to fuck Stiles roughly, slamming in hard enough to rattle the bed frame, snarling “Take what I give you, slut. Fucking _take_ it!” as he tries unsuccessfully to get that last inch inside.

He can feel Stiles wrap his arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life as Peter uses him, and he’s moaning and whining, gasping out “Please, Peter, please,“ as he’s shaken down to his very bones by Peter pistoning in and out of him. Peter grabs his hips then and tilts them up, and that allows him to go that little bit deeper. He drives forward harshly, breath catching as he’s finally able to bottom out.

He’s sinking into the base with every stroke now, and it’s heavenly. The change in position means he’s hitting Stiles’ prostate, and the young man starts to whine in the back of his throat. Peter can hear his heart rate racing, and he starts to shake.

Peter growls at the sight, and loses all semblance of control. He hammers into Stiles, gripping his hips roughly enough to bruise, snapping his hips forwards faster and faster, feeling the friction and the pressure build and build and build, his nerve endings ablaze with pleasure, until finally he rams his hips forwards brutally hard and his muscles spasm and lock as he starts to come, and come, and come.

He stays like that for a long while, head back, eyes closed in ecstasy, as his body pumps spurt after spurt of seed into the young body beneath him. When he finally opens his eyes, he sees Stiles laying under him, looking dazed with the intensity of it all. His cock sits hard and proud against his belly, red and neglected. Peter reaches one hand out and pumps up and down efficiently, and it doesn’t take more than half a dozen strokes before Stiles is tensing, arching his back and crying out as his orgasm is forced from him.

Peter can feel the muscles clamp down around his cock where he’s still buried deep, and the sensation milks the last of his come out of him. He collapses down onto his elbows, bracketing his young partner and breathing heavily.They remain there, silent and unmoving, as they catch their breath.

When Peter finally looks at Stiles, the young man is laying there with a satisfied expression on his face, and he hums contentedly. “Consider me used and fucking wrecked” he mumbles against Peter’s neck.

Peter smiles to himself, and his wolf preens. “You were perfect, sweet boy. You let me do exactly what I wanted,” Peter replies, his pleasure evident in his tone.

“Mmm. Loved it. Ten out of ten would do again” Stiles  replies with a lazy smile on his face.

Peter shifts then, slowly pulling out and earning a hiss from Stiles. “Really? Some people find it a little much. The wolf part of me can get pushy.”

“Well duh, that’s why you checked first, right?” Stiles rolls over to face him. He looks Peter straight in the eye and tells him “Seriously Peter, this may possibly have been the greatest sex I’ve ever had. I fucking loved it. And any time you want to do it again? Call me.”

And then he slides out of bed, wincing a little, and heads towards the shower.

While he’s standing under the hot water, Peter slides in behind him and drapes himself along his back. “Anytime, you say?” he purrs in those deliciously silky tones of his.

“Uh huh. Anytime” Stiles confirms, grinning.

"So…..does right now count as anytime?” Peter asks with a gleam in his eye. He guides Stiles’ hand down to feel where he’s already hard again.

“Definitely,” Stiles nods, and then he moans with pleasure as Peter slides two fingers inside of him.

 

 


End file.
